Miracles

Psalm 107:1; 15; 22

Oh give thanks to the Lord, for he is good,
    for his steadfast love endures forever!

15 Let them thank the Lord for his steadfast love,
    for his wondrous works to the children of man!

22 And let them offer sacrifices of thanksgiving,
    and tell of his deeds in songs of joy!

I’ve doubled back around to Psalm 107 because it has been on my mind the last few days. If I were to break it down further, it’s really these three verses. March 10, 2018, Hannah and I had our first child, a boy named Julian. I foresee some of this blog ultimately turning into things that I want him to know about the world, about life, and about God, but that’s for another time. Right now, I want to give thanks.

I want to give thanks to God for the miracle of childbirth. I have never witnessed something more awe-inspiring. It will stop you dead in your tracks and give you all the emotions at once. I already thought pregnancy was a really amazing thing, and I still do. Pregnant women literally grow humans inside of them. It’s mind-boggling that this human boy that I can now hold was once roughly the same size as the diameter of a single strand of hair.

But Birth? Birth is the process of all that internal effort coming to fruition. The baby begins to physically separate from the mother and stake his claim in our world. Julian has existed for the last several months, but his existence changed 3 days ago in a way that I can’t comprehend. In fact, even if I understand the biology of what’s going on, I still can’t comprehend the ways in which his personhood will be shaped and developed. There is, of course, a biological element to this, which is already imprinted in his DNA, but there is also an environmental element, which is a future that I can’t see. He will be a combination of both me and his mother in some ways, but in many many other ways, he will be uniquely himself.

I’m elated to witness this process of change and development upon which he will embark. I’m overwhelmed by the possibility of things he can experience, positive or negative, far more overwhelmed than I have ever been about the possibility of things I could experience. There’s a lot of mystery moving forward, but what I do know is that God’s steadfast love endures forever. I’m confident in this. I’m largely confident in this because people for multiple millennia have testified to it. This very passage from Psalm 107 could’ve been written over 3000 years ago. The same steadfast love that’s testified to in verse 1 is the same love that I feel in moments like this, and it’s the same love that will be there for my son as he grows into the man that he was created to be.

So, how could I not give thanks for His wondrous works to children of man? The only response I can fathom is to tell of this love and to tell of His deeds (verse 22). I witnessed a miracle at 12:13 A.M. on March 10, and the amazing thing is that it’s so commonplace I’ve taken it for granted my whole life. Children are born every day, 250 times a minute, in fact.

I started this blog to help me find truth in every day occurrences, but I wasn’t expecting to find miracles. Thank you, Lord.

Digest

Wilt thou love God as he thee ? then digest,
My soul, this wholesome meditation,
How God the Spirit, by angels waited on
In heaven, doth make His temple in thy breast.
The Father having begot a Son most blest,
And still begetting—for he ne’er begun—
Hath deign’d to choose thee by adoption,
Co-heir to His glory, and Sabbath’ endless rest.
And as a robb’d man, which by search doth find
His stolen stuff sold, must lose or buy it again,
The Sun of glory came down, and was slain,
Us whom He had made, and Satan stole, to unbind.
‘Twas much, that man was made like God before,
But, that God should be made like man, much more.

Holy Sonnet XV – John Donne

Poetry like this can feel antiquated.  The language is confusing and disorienting, but I’m still drawn to it. I think I’m drawn to things like this because it forces me to slow down. It forces me to read carefully, then to reread it. I’m thankful for things in my life that force me to do this because I’m always reminded of how much richness I miss. This poem is beautiful, but it takes work to understand.

I first encountered this poem in one of my favorite seminary classes. We boiled this poem down to a simpler, more understandable idea. It’s a poem about downward mobility. It’s about God humbling himself for us. It’s a Trinitarian poem showing how God the Father, Son, and Spirit, has exhibited this downward mobility for our sake. It’s in the Spirit, served by angels, making His home in us. It’s in the Father who has a Son, making us co-heirs with Him. It’s in the Son, putting on flesh and being slain to unbind us from sin.

Trinity Painting.jpg

Prayer and Reflection

God humbled himself for us and for our benefit. How can we have a heart like that? What can we do to live into that beauty? In what ways can we humble ourselves? I’ll leave you with a prayer. Pray it with me.

Lord, make me an instrument of your peace:
where there is hatred, let me sow love;
where there is injury, pardon;
where there is doubt, faith;
where there is despair, hope;
where there is darkness, light;
where there is sadness, joy.

O divine Master, grant that I may not so much seek
to be consoled as to console,
to be understood as to understand,
to be loved as to love.
For it is in giving that we receive,
it is in pardoning that we are pardoned,
and it is in dying that we are born to eternal life.
Amen.

– Peace Prayer of Saint Francis

Within You

Ephesians 2:1-10

And you were dead in the trespasses and sins in which you once walked, following the course of this world, following the prince of the power of the air, the spirit that is now at work in the sons of disobedience— among whom we all once lived in the passions of our flesh, carrying out the desires of the body and the mind, and were by nature children of wrath, like the rest of mankind. But God, being rich in mercy, because of the great love with which he loved us, even when we were dead in our trespasses, made us alive together with Christ—by grace you have been saved— and raised us up with him and seated us with him in the heavenly places in Christ Jesus, so that in the coming ages he might show the immeasurable riches of his grace in kindness toward us in Christ Jesus. For by grace you have been saved through faith. And this is not your own doing; it is the gift of God, not a result of works, so that no one may boast. 10 For we are his workmanship, created in Christ Jesus for good works, which God prepared beforehand, that we should walk in them.

As we’ve already established, to some degree, Lent is a time for us to come to terms with the human condition. The focus is often on the brokenness in each of us as well as the brokenness around us. As I’ve mentioned before, we embrace our brokenness and look for truth in the midst of it. We “endure suffering” as 2 Timothy 4:5 states. Yes, Lent is a time to crack open the shells of our lives and peer into the inner workings of who we are, but besides brokenness, what might you also see?

Is it not true that we were created in the image of God and given a task to tame the wildness of creation in such a way that promotes flourishing, to use our creativity for His glory (Genesis 1:26-31)? We may be broken, but that doesn’t mean we aren’t valuable. We may not have earned God’s grace, but that doesn’t negate our value. It doesn’t mean that God didn’t create us for a purpose or that we weren’t made with intention.

Verse 8 is clear that salvation doesn’t come from anything that we’ve done. It’s a gift from God. His grace is a gift, but just because we didn’t do anything to receive the gift doesn’t mean there isn’t something for us to do. We were created for good works. We were created to seek the flourishing of other humans, to “be fruitful and multiple.” We often think of this phrase as a commandment to reproduce, but what if it’s broader than that?  What if we’re called from the very beginning to participate in a world that promotes health and care and love for everyone?

The human condition is broken, but at the same time in our brokenness, in our death, we were loved and saved so that we could live into the good works that God planned for us from the beginning. We seek healing. We seek reconciliation. We seek justice. We seek love. We seek the welfare of the city. These things may not be perfected until He returns, but we can catch a glimpse of what His glory is like and help others do the same.

I’ve mentioned that I want to make Lent about introspection. I want us to shed the weight of our idols and see what’s left. What’s left might be broken, but it’s also the workmanship of God. He took care in creating each of us, so maybe the cracks are there on purpose. What might we see when we peer into the inner workings of who we are?  Maybe when we hesitantly peek into those broken spots, we’ll be surprised by what we find. Maybe we’ll find that we were fearfully and wonderfully made. And maybe, just maybe, we’ll find the kingdom of God.

Prayer and Reflection

Pray for guidance in better understanding how God can use you for the flourishing of those around you. Pray that you will find hope, love, and value in the brokenness of your life.